It's been a crazy week here in Mintown. I'm just happy that it's Friday and that I have a seat at the pub with my name on it.

But before we kick off the weekend, I would just like to make a quick soliloquy, a la Peter Griffin:

What Grinds My Gears

You know what grinds my gears? Being referred to while in the office as part of "the girls". Did I step away to the powder room and re-enter the office through a time-portal that whisked us back to 1950? I went to college. I did my little stint as an administrative assistant. I'm just as competent as you, despite the fact that I don't have a pecker. So the next time you decide to tell one of our clients what adorable little thing "the girls" put together for an upcoming business trip, try using names and/or titles when referring to your female co-worker(s).

Ask anyone, and they'll tell you, I'm the last person you would call a feminist. But Jesus H. Christ, I worked hard to be where I am; I will not be clumped together with the fucking receptionist. Say one more thing, sir, and I'll subserviently hand your little stubby to you on a platter.